On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer.
Ode To A Nightingale
Ode To Autumn.
La Belle Dame Sans Merci.
Ode on a Grecian Urn
Ode to Psyche
Ode on Melancholy
The Eve of St. Agnes
Lamia
Ode ['Bards of Passion and of Mirth']
Lines on the Mermaid Tavern
When I have fears that I may cease to be
The Human Seasons
Ode on Indolence
Sonnet (Why did I laugh tonight?)
The Fall of Hyperion

I also love "O Blush Not So"
and "To----"
and "This Living Hand"
and "Eve of St. Agnes"
and "On the Grasshopper and the Cricket"
and "Mrs. Reynold's Cat"
and "Song About Myself"
and "Give me Women Wine and Snuff"
and all the odes
and

pretty much everything he wrote.

"I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections and the Truth of Imagination."

The first poem to ever *hit* me with true poetic force was Keats's "To Autumn"--so, I'll certainly have to include that one I also love "Fall of Hyperion" and "Ode to a Nightingale". A few others I especially love are:

I give up. Ok. Ok. You should know me well enough by now that I am characteristically hyperbolic. I am extreme like that about everything.

I don't use the word 'like' I use 'love'--I use the word 'hate' to describe something I probably only moderately dislike--it's just me, that's all. I'm a bit lost in gray areas like that--I'm able to see a bit better in the black and white, is all.

Yes. There are probably some of his poems that were immature and green, certainly not as good as his chief stuff. Yes. That's true. True on the whole.

"I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections and the Truth of Imagination."

For me "When I have fears" is unquestionably the best. The last verse: "Till Love and Fame to nothingness do sink" makes me have goosebumps all over my body... But there are two more lines that still leave me breathless: "Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,/ And so live ever - or else swoon to death."

"We look before and after,
and pine for what is not:
our sincerest laughter
with some pain is fraught;
our sweetest songs are those that tell
of saddest thought..." (Shelley)

And so it is that Keats always wanted to do just that--and his idea of "living ever" morphed into Fanny when he fell hopelessly in love...I don't mean 'live forever,' mind you, I mean "live ever" just that--like the Nightingale or the scene on the Urn...

"I am certain of nothing but the holiness of the heart's affections and the Truth of Imagination."